CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Layla
My head is a total clusterfuck during my shift at the clinic.
It’s filled with the way Sean looks at me, the life he lives, the life I don’t have anymore, and the admission that I’m still grieving that life I could’ve had with my mom free of my father. I’ve been grieving my mother more than I’ve let anyone know.
Having Sean in my space has shown me that. He’s a force that’s both pulling the air from my lungs and breathing life back into me in a way I didn’t know I needed. I make it through most of the day without hearing from Sean at all, which is odd.
The thing about working in a profession where talking is limited, it gives you way too much time to live inside your own head.
By the time Sean’s appointment rolls around at three, I’m splashing cold water on my face while I wait for him to arrive.
Just the thought of his skin under my hands sends a rush through me I can’t ignore. A rush I don’t want to ignore.
But by three thirty he still hasn’t shown, and I’m thinking I was right to be so hesitant about him.
I’m annoyed with myself for giving into him so quickly as I exit through the doors of the clinic at the end of the day, but I stop in my tracks when I see Boyd, one of the prospects I met at the club, in the same truck that Sean drove me home in last night.
He’s clearly waiting for me. When he looks up and sees me, I get a polite, tight-lipped smile and a nod as he starts walking in my direction.
“You have to come with me, ma’am … umm, Layla,” he says as we meet in the middle of the sidewalk and I shoot him a glare.
Boyd is a shorter guy with jet black hair that’s cut close.
He’s only a few inches taller than me, but he’s built like a brick shithouse, as if his height fueled him to work out five hours a day—and unlike the other guys, I don’t see one visible bit of ink on his skin.
“Where is he?” I ask sharply, wondering if I should take the ride home or wait for my bus just to prove a point. “I don’t need a babysitter,” I tell him as I start walking toward the bus stop. “If Sean wanted me to go home with someone from the MC, he should’ve come to get me himself.”
“He … can’t.”
That stops me. I turn and face Boyd. “Why?”
Boyd looks up at the sky, then back down to me. “I can’t tell you that. But you have to come with me. He wants you at the club when he gets back.”
I put my hand on my hip, my suspicion growing. “Why didn’t he tell me he wasn’t coming?”
“Listen, Layla, I get you’re pissed, but can we talk in the truck? I don’t want to get my ass kicked for not getting you back to the clubhouse. It’s for your safety.”
“For my safety?” I ask, my voice hitting a higher note. Boyd’s eyes are pleading. He seems like a nice guy, polite and well mannered, and the way the patched members seem to give him shit constantly almost makes me feel sorry for him, but how do I know Sean really sent him?
“I think I’ll wait right here.”
“Fucking Christ.” Boyd rubs his forehead and pulls his phone out. I watch for my bus as he texts, and not thirty seconds later a message comes through on my phone.
YOUR BOSS
Get in the truck, Layla.
You’re late.
YOUR BOSS
Something came up, this isn’t a game. I won’t tell you twice.
A chill runs through me. I know there’s no playing with him right now. I look up at Boyd, who’s still waiting expectantly just as my bus rounds the corner.
“We good?” Boyd asks.
Fuck. “Yes.” I scowl at him and head for the truck. “You have to stop at my place so I can at least change.” I look down at my scrubs.
“As long as you’re quick. Ax said to take you right to the club.”
“I’ll be quick,” I say as he climbs in and starts the engine. I look out the window as he backs out of the parking space. It’s not his fault Ax is a caveman who sent someone to fetch me like I was his property. I’ll take that up with him though, the first chance I get.
“What do you mean? I thought you had to take me to the club?” I ask Boyd as I stand freshly showered and dressed in comfortable jeans, a white t-shirt and my favorite Chucks. My feet are too sore to put heels on tonight.
“He changed his mind. He wants us to stay here, said he was on his way. Like I said, I’m not trying to get my ass kicked and I don’t question when he tells me what to do.”
“A lesson you should take to heart, little dove.” Sean’s voice speaking directly to me makes me jump.
I didn’t even hear him come in. I spin around to face him, already pissed that I was picked up by his guy like some package, but the moment I see him, my anger dies and turns to fear.
I’ve seen him serious, I’ve seen him commanding, but I’ve not seen him angry and right now he looks really fucking angry.
As he turns to face Boyd, I gasp. His cheekbone is split open and a bruise is blooming there.
Dried blood is caked to his skin and a few smears of fresh blood line his cheek below the gash.
He’s also filthy, with what looks like dirt and sweat covering his neck and shirt.
My eyes move to his knuckles as he approaches the kitchen sink. They’re busted open and bloody.
“Wait outside on the porch,” Sean says to Boyd. “Keep watch until we leave.” That’s when I notice something else in his eyes, something I haven’t seen before. Like he’s holding the horrors of the day there. “You need to call into work. You’re not going,” he says to me.
I don’t even argue, I just nod, because there’s no arguing with the look in Sean’s eyes right now.
Boyd doesn’t waste time arguing either; he just nods at me and leaves as Sean begins to scrub his hands clean. My breathing increases as I begin to understand why he didn’t show. He obviously couldn’t, and was involved with something for the club that I probably don’t want to know about.
Sean keeps his eyes trained on mine as he walks by me and heads down the hall to my bathroom. “We’ll talk after,” is all he says.
I wait a few seconds while a silent war wages in my head.
The second I saw Sean come through my door battered and filthy, my heart dropped, and the last thing I care about now is him missing his appointment.
The last thing I want to do is fight what is happening.
All I want to do is go to him, crawl into his strong arms and make sure he’s okay, the same way he made sure I was okay last night.
I move quickly toward the bathroom door.
It isn’t fully closed and there’s a sliver of light peeking through.
When I push open the door, Sean is standing at the sink.
I can tell he’s tense, because the muscles in his back are rigid.
The water is running as he checks out his injuries.
He looks at me over his shoulder in the mirror.
After I grab a fresh cloth from the linen closet, my eyes can’t roam his skin fast enough.
Sean’s naked body is on full display, and he’s a force to be reckoned with.
He’s taut and flexed, covered in sweat, with blood dripping down his face, and he isn’t self-conscious in the slightest as he stares at me with those haunted eyes. He’s incredible. My gladiator.
I’m desperate to reach out and touch him.